Nightlife
by Quill of Thoughts
Summary: Mistoffelees is a performer at the Jellicle Junkyard Nightclub,being a magician.He develops a small crush on a certain white regular.What happens when he decides to tell her how he feels about her?For Jellicle Week October.Love Triangle.Misto-Ria-Plato.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: My entry for BroadwayKhaos' October Jellicle Week! (yay!) Didn't think I would actually get started on this...Anyways, I decided to write on a pairing/triangle that I rarely, if ever, write for. Yes, the one that I utterly hate: Victoria and Mistoffelees. The third party being Plato, of course. Yes, it's quite strange for me. Just as an advance warning, there's a bit of alcohol (sp?) abuse later on. I love torturing Misto...Oh well, here's the first chapter, read review and all that jazz.**

"So, arent' you going to tell me?" Tugger asked as I pulled my black sports jacked on. Sighing, I looked up at the clock, wondering how long I had to stall.

"I don't think so," I said as I checked that the various pockets lining my jacket sleeves had the cards and dice that I needed for my various magic tricks. I had a small magic act pretty early in the night here at the Jellicle Junkyard Nightclub.

"Why not?" Tugger asked as he shrugged off his black leather jacket that he always wore saying that, quote, 'all the best queens love a bad boy.' "You still have a half an hour before you need to be onstage."

"It's a secret, that's why," I snapped slightly. "You'll go blabbing though, once I tell you, and then it won't be a secret anymore." I walked over to the counter with the mirror and picked up a simple black and silver walking stick, being sure to look at my reflection as I did so.

"C'mon! We've been friends since before you got this gig! For EC's sake, _I _got you this gig," Tugger said as he tossed my fedora to me. I hated this outfit that Old Deuteronomy—the owner of the Junkyard—made me wear. At least he didn't force me to wear the cliché tuxedo. I wouldn't have taken up this gig if he had.

"I know you got me this gig, and I believe that I've repaid you at least twice over for it," I said as I straightened my hat and jacket sleeves.

"But still! Cats are starting to think you're gay!" he said. I sighed and shook my head.

"Out," I said as I walked over to my couch and tossed him his jacket.

"Wait, you're actually gay?" Tugger asked as he caught it and stood up.

"For Everlasting Cat's sake, Tugger! I'm not gay!" I said as I opened the door. "I'll point her out after my show."

"You have to, otherwise I'll spread a rumor that you're gay!" he said, trying to threaten me. I laughed softly and shook my head.

"I don't have to do anything," I said. "Now out."

"Fine, fine. I'm leaving," he said as he held up his paws and walked out. Sighing, I turned back into my room and walked over to the mirror so that I could adjust the tie around the collar of the white dress shirt. _I much prefer jeans and a simple tee shirt. Enough with the stupid dress clothes, _I thought as I glanced back up at the clock.

"Showtime, Mr. Mistoffelees," I said as I walked out and down to the stage.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Yay! Second chapter! Shoutouts to raptoregg64 and Calanarie! I might actually be able to get this story up in time! Yay! Misto does a magic show, and Plato plays a mean trick. The whole love triangle plays a larger part in this chapter, and Misto finally learns the name of his lady-love. Anyways, read, review and all that jazz.**

I stood behind the curtain, waiting for it to open up. Tonight I wasn't going to simply appear out of nowhere like I usually did. It was tiring to do it night after night, and I was getting pretty bored of it, so I was going to do things differently tonight. It would probably take a hit on my salary, yet I didn't really care at this point. The curtain rose, and I stepped onto center stage to a nice applause.

"Good evenin' folks. How's you night been?" I asked, rubbing my paws together as a chorus of "goods" and the like were said. "That's good. Now, I'm going to do things slightly different than I usually do. Tonight, I'm going to perform a trick that one of you in the audience wants," I said, hoping that snow-white queen in the balcony would suggest something.

"I've got a trick for you," a brown and white tom, wearing a white dress shirt and jeans, said, standing up. The spotlight moved over to him. "Can you do card tricks?"

"They're not what I'm known for, yet I can turn a fair card or two," I replied as I saw the tom walk up to the stage. He walked over to the steps, smiling slightly and up onto stage.

"Now, I've been coming here every night and I've been wondering if Mr. Mistoffelees could do tricks that he's not planned," he said out to the audience. "I guess this is my chance to find out." There was a small chorus of laughter. Smiling and shaking my head slightly, I took the deck of cards out of his paw and shuffled it a few times. I flipped it over, showing the cards to the audience.

"Normal cards, normal deck," I said as I glanced down at the cards, quickly memorizing the order of the cards; I had a photographic memory. I shuffled the deck, being sure to keep the order straight in my head—this is where my magic came in. "Pick a card, show it to the audience, and place it back in the deck somewhere," I said, trying to not sound bored. Smiling, the tom picked out a card, showed it to the audience and placed it into the deck. If memory and magic served right, then he had the three of spades. I shuffled the cards a few more times, in my mind as well, and I pulled out the right card. "Is this the right card?" I asked, a confident smile on my face. The tom smirked as the audience laughed softly.

"No. I believe that's the four of clubs. I had the three of spades," he said. The smile on my face faltered for a moment as I looked at the card.

"Of course it's not. How could it be if it's this one?" I asked as I switched that card with a three of spades out of my coat sleeve. "How'd you do that?" I asked him softly as there was applause.

"Switched the cards," he said as he pulled out a three of spades from his shirt sleeve. "Sorry, mate, yet I just needed to impress Victoria, that snow-white queen. I hope you don't mind much."

"Of course not," I said with a grimace. "Now get off my stage."

The rest of the night went by pretty uneventfully. I moved back to doing most of my normal tricks, to prevent more humiliation from occurring. I was glad though when the curtain closed and I could leave.

"Hey, so who's the lucky queen?" Tugger asked, leaning against the wall, as I walked past him.

"Snow white queen, red dress, sitting front and center on the balcony level," I replied as I continued walking to my dressing room.

"That babe? You have fine tastes," he said, standing up straight and walking next to me.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you say. Unfortunatly, that tom who sabotaged my show has his eyes on the same queen," I replied bitterly.

"Wait, so you didn't have that act planned out with Plato? Man, I thought only _I _would do something as lowlife as that for a queen," Tugger said, shaking his head. "So how'd he manage to bamboozle the great Mr. Mistoffelees?"

"That dirty lowlife switched the cards on me," I muttered as I walked into my dressing room and tossed my jacket onto the couch, not bothering to hang it up. I sighed and walked over to my closet, pulling out my street clothes and a nice bottle of hard liquor. Wonderful stuff that I wouldn't ever be able to afford.

"How'd you get that?" Tugger asked as he pointed at the bottle.

"Well, when you don't keep your alcohol under lock and key…" I said, shrugging slightly as I downed a shot of it. Shaking his head, Tugger pulled the liquor from my hand and poured it into the sink just as I was about to take another shot.

"No more drink, Misto. I've got an idea that'll make you feel better," he said. I looked up into his cocky smile and groaned.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Yay! More people are reviewing! That makes me happy...Anyways! Yes, Misto drinks hard liquor. I figured that it was easier/cheaper to get drunk off of it, yet of course, I didn't really look at the price, so it prolly would have been cheaper just to drink beer or something like that, yet oh well. Misto drinks hard liquor, prefering whiskey and vodka. The vodka has to be spiked with fruit punch though, otherwise he won't touch it. Also, in this chapter, I'm not condoning the use of various chemicals to get back at someone. It's hard getting a hold of them, and it's a pretty obvious tip on your credit history. Don't do it. Use something more common, like sleeping pills or simply use cash to buy the chemicals. No, I've not put much thought into this...maybe...Anyways, read, review and all that jazz.**

"This is the dumbest idea in Jellicle history!" I said as Tugger placed a slightly damp cloth in my hand.

"No, Misto, it's not. The dumbest idea was opening up the club the day before Prohibition came into effect," Tugger replied as he moved me next to the side door of a bar a few blocks down from the nightclub.

"Yet we could get arrested," I said as I looked around, hoping that there weren't any cops around. "We're using chloroform, for Bast's sake!" Tugger smiled and shook his head.

"Look, I've not been caught yet. Plato's going to walk out that door in about a minute or so, and you'll place the rag over his mouth and nose. Once he drops to the ground, we'll move him to the dumpster. Got it?" he asked me. Sighing, I nodded and crouched down next to the door.

"Wait, is he going to remember this afterwards?" I asked. Tugger shrugged.

"Like I said, I've not been caught yet," he said. "Now pay attention." I turned my attention back to the door, waiting for Plato to walk out. Not long after, Plato walked out of the door and I pressed the rag to his face. Needless to say, he dropped like a rock. "Works like a charm," Tugger said, smiling slightly.

"Is he…dead?" I asked, poking Plato's motionless body.

"Nope. He'll just be out for a few hours and when he wakes up, he'll have a wicked headache. I'll take the chloroform though," he said as he pulled the rag from my paw. "Let's drag his body to the dumpster."

"You sure he's not dead?"

"Yes, now get some stairs fashioned so that we can get up to toss him in," Tugger said quickly as he looked around. "We've got about five minutes or so." I nodded and set some boxes next to the dumpster and made some stairs. Tugger lifted up Plato, walked up the stairs and dropped him in with a low thud.

A couple of minutes later, Tugger and I were walking away, trying to act innocent.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: So, guys, _they just knocked Plato out! _Sorry, yet it just annoyed me slightly that you guys reacted like they had killed Plato. Chloroform doesn't kill someone, it simply knocks them out! Nothing more. Tugger sorta is more of a criminal, simply because he's a minor drug dealer, yet that's all. They've got very flexible morals. Anyways, now that that's over, here's the next chapter! Read, review and all that jazz.**

"You need to lighten up, Misto," Tugger said. "Quit stressing over the fact that you just might go to jail for using chloroform on Plato."

"Oh yes, because it's not like getting arrested would affect my job security at all," I said sarcastically, as I glanced over my shoulder.

"Quit being sarcastic, Misto. It's not something queens like," Tugger said, sounding slightly annoyed. "And you don't need to look that guilty. No one's around, considering they're all partying or sleeping."

"Well, sorry, yet I'm still slightly worried about being caught, and losing my job, Tugger. We used chloroform. Last time I checked, it wasn't really thought highly of," I said. This time Tugger looked around uneasily.

"Mind not mentioning the chloroform part? I don't really want to get caught," he said.

"I thought you said no one was around."

"No civilians, yet drug dealers might be out. I use the chloroform to get the 'nip I sell, Misto. It's how I can make so much money off of it. No one's found out yet, but eventually someone might put two and two together," Tugger said.

"Why am I not surprised you sell 'nip?" I asked, sighing. As I sighed, I pulled a small flask out of the inside pocket of my denim jacket and downed some of the drink inside.

"More whiskey?" Tugger asked, looking at the flask in my hand and sounding slightly annoyed. I looked over at him and shook my head.

"Vodka spiked with punch. Goes down easier," I replied. "Not to mention whiskey gets pretty expensive after a while."

"Dad's going to find out about this, you know. He doesn't like employees who are drunks," Tugger said, making a face.

"Deut won't do anything. If anything though, he'd just put me into rehab. Munk'd fire me," I replied. "That's why you won't tell anyone, right?"

"Fine. Whatever you say, Misto. I just don't want you to die," he said as I started walking up the metal stairs to my small apartment, a few blocks away from the nightclub. Stumbling slightly, I felt Tugger grab my collar and pull be back down to the street.

"Hey! What are you doing?" I said, trying to get away from him.

"You're drunk," Tugger said simply.

"I'm not drunk! It takes a whole flask before I'm decently drunk!" I said, still trying to fight against him as he started walking down the street.

"Still, I'm not going to let you drink yourself to death without anyone around. You're coming to the nightclub, and you're going to stay in your dressing room," Tugger said. I continued to struggle against him, yet he had the advantage of about three inches and thirty pounds on me.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Yes, Tugger sells 'nip. I've always thought that either he or Cassandra sells 'nip, ever since I had to think about it with the original Jellicle week back in August. And I too love the idea of a drunk Misto...Anyways, I want to let the few of you who reviewed know that yes, I know you're reviewing, yet I just figure that I'll just reply all at once in the next author's note since everyone's saying the same thing. Also, I believe that some of you who are reading this forget that I live off of reviews. I don't exactly get paid for this, and I'm doing it for the shear pleasure of it, and reviews make it all the more better. I might as well say now that I don't own Cats, and I don't even own a cat. Yeah...very sad-making. Might as well end this author's note now, so yeah. Read, review and all that jazz.**

I collapsed on the couch in my dressing room, exhausted from fighting Tugger the whole way back. What made things worse was that he stole my flask of vodka and my bottle of whiskey that I had stashed away in my closet was down the drain.

Knock, knock…_I heard. _

I sat up. It was probably Tugger, yet I wanted to be sure.

"It's Cori, Misto," I heard him say. "I was wondering if I could talk to you." Sighing, I stood up and walked over to the door, debating about whether or not I would just ignore him. "Please Misto? Don't ignore me."

"Fine," I muttered as I opened the door.

"What's wrong, Quaxo?" he asked as he walked in and closed the door. Hissing slightly at the use of my actual name, I turned away from him.

"Nothing," I muttered, looking through the pockets of my clothes for any source of alcohol.

"Doesn't feel like nothing. And you've been drinking again," Cori said as he placed a paw on my shoulder, stopping me.

"Damn telepathy," I muttered as I glared at him. "Who cares about whether or not I'm drinking again?"

"It's a gift," he said, smirking slightly. "And I care about whether or not you're drinking. Now seriously, what's wrong?"

"Did you see my show earlier?" I asked him, sitting back down on the couch and leaning my head back.

"Yeah. What was that about with Plato? You could see your confusion all the way in the back row. You never get rattled like that. Not to mention, you're never wrong," Cori said as he pulled up a chair and sat down in front of me.

"He tricked me. Switched the cards when I wasn't paying attention. Wanted to impress Victoria, that white queen who comes nearly every night. Unfortunately, I like her as well, yet I can't even get the courage to talk to her. I'm worthless!"

"Really? You're seriously going there?" Cori asked as he shook his head slightly.

"Yes. I can't talk to queens. I'm worthless, just look at Tugger—"

Oh, so now you're comparing yourself to that Rum Tum Tugger who's a failure at life? Really now?" Cori asked, cutting me off.

"Do you have anything to drink?" I asked, raising my head to look at him.

"Yeah. Water. You never answered my question, though."

"At least he can talk to queens…" I muttered. Cori sighed and pulled me up to my feet by the collar of my shirt.

"Go. Victoria should still be out here. If not, go ask Tanto for her address. Customers have to give it in case they get too drunk to get home on their own," he said, dragging me to the door.

"I'm not going to be able to talk to her. I'm utterly worthless," I replied, pulling away from him.

Cori sighed and pushed me out of my dressing room. "If you want an accounting of your worth, count your friends!"


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Yeah...I don't like this chapter as much...No Tugger, and no Cori either. Just the love triangle coming out in an obvious fashion...No really funny parts either...hmm...Well, next chapter will make up for it. Yeah, I'm updating this really soon, yet I'm wanting to get this finished so that I can move onto my halloween fic (for once it's not Misto-it stars Cori). Anyways, read, review and all that jazz.**

"Hey, Tanto, can you give me Victoria's address?" I asked Tantomile, Cori's twin sister who took care of the front check-in desk for the nightclub.

"Right, that snow white queen Cori says you've had your eye on for a couple of weeks," Tanto said as she flipped through the book of names and addresses she filled in.

"How'd he tell you already?" I asked her, sighing slightly. She looked up at me as if I was missing something obvious as she tapped the side of her head. "Right…forgot about the telepathy," I muttered.

"You know, for being some sort of mystical prodigy, you miss a lot," Tanto said, shaking her head.

"The address?" I asked, not liking it when she talked down to me like I was an idiotic kit.

"2190, 3rd Street," Tanto said, sounding bored. "Plato lives on 26, 4th street if you want to attack him afterwards," she added. I rolled my eyes and walked out of the night club and hailed a cab to get to Victoria's house.

A few minutes later, I was dropped outside a white townhouse with a small, well-kept yard. Taking a deep breath, I walked up to her door and pressed the doorbell. A light flicked on inside and I saw a figure run down the stairs.

"Hello—Oh, Mr. Mistoffelees," Vitoria said as she opened the door. She was wearing a blood red robe, and that was about all. "Is there something you need?"

"I…uh…I was just wondering if you would want to go out to get drinks or something else. If it's a bad time, I could come back," I said, looking down slightly, trying not to let my eyes stray to the lack of clothing she had.

"No, it's a fine time. And I'd like to go yet…" she trailed off, looking over her shoulder. "Why don't I call you a cab? I'm sure you don't want to walk all the way back," she said quickly.

"Oh, okay. I'll just walk. It's easier," I said. She smiled slightly and shrugged.

"Can I give you something before you go?" she asked, smiling.

"Wha—" I was cut off by her quickly kissing my cheek. She pulled away and smiled shyly as I raised a paw to the cheek she had kissed.

"Goodnight, Mr. Mistoffelees," she said as she closed the door. I sighed, turning down to the path, and walked about hallway down it before running back to the door and pitching it open quickly. Running up the stairs, I opened the door to what I presumed to be a bedroom and looked in to see Victoria passionately embracing Plato. I had obviously caught them in the middle of something.

"What on Bast's green earth is he doing here?" Plato said, looking up at me, standing awkwardly in the doorway. Victoria cocked her head slightly and turned around, seeing me standing there.

"I'm going to call a cab for you, Mistoffelees," she said as she walked over to a phone and started dialing a number.

"Don' bother," I said softly as I ran out, refusing to look back at her and her too-perfect house.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Yep, that last chapter was pretty sad, yet I had two choices, that or making Misto abusive, so I chose the better of two evils. At least this chapter's better! This was actually my most favorite chapter...And I love the last line. Just sayin'. Anyways, read, review, love Tugger's lines, and all that jazz.**

I cradled a small glass of scotch in my paws as I sat at the bar for the Junkyard Nightclub, not quite believing that Victoria would kiss me, just to go up to her room and go farther with Plato. Damn Plato. I raised the glass to my lips and downed the contents.

"Another one?" Cassandra, the dark brown Abyssinian queen who was the bar-cat asked. "Vodka this time?"

"Make it a double," I muttered. Cassandra nodded and handed me a glass.

"Oooh, adventurous," I heard another voice say. I turned and saw Tugger standing behind me, looking just as cocky as ever. I even noticed a few queens staring lustfully at him. Apparently he didn't know what salt in wounds felt like.

"Go away," I muttered angrily. He laughed and sat down on the stool next to me, rather than leaving.

"I take it it didn't go well with Victoria?" he asked. I glared at him as a reply.

"She kissed me and then went up the stairs to have sex with Plato. I don't think it worked out very well," I replied bitterly as I downed the vodka. When I was finished with it, I turned to Cassandra to get another drink. "A—"

"Whiskey, and make it a triple, I know," Cassandra finished for me. I nodded tiredly and she handed me the glass. I gratefully took it.

"You, tom, need to get over her," Tugger said, taking the whiskey from me. I turned and glared at him again.

"What do you propose then if you won't let me drink?" I asked as I pulled the whiskey from him and took a sip of it.

"Get some eye candy. Find another queen, and obsess over that one," Tugger replied, taking the whiskey from me again and finishing it for me. I sighed and looked around, trying to find some queen that wasn't already taken.

"Well, Cassandra isn't all that bad…" I said, my eyes landing on her.

Across the bar, a glass shattered.


End file.
